O Thou that hear’st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before Thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their mem’ry from Thy book.

Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let Thy good Spirit ne’er depart,
Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

I cannot live without Thy light,
Cast out and banished from Thy sight;
Thy holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

Recordings 1